


An electrifying team

by MonkeyLi



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M, QuackerjackxMegavolt, quackervolt - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 17:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15712050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonkeyLi/pseuds/MonkeyLi
Summary: A get together of Quackerjack and Megavolt, with a little take on Quackerjacks past.





	An electrifying team

**Author's Note:**

> Very old story of mine. Translated from german via DeepL

I was sitting vertically in bed, this darn dream had ripped me out of my sleep in the most brutal way. This dream that had been following me for a few days now, to be exact, since the day I had travelled into the future together with Quackerjack in his time top.  
Yeah, this whole time travel thing started out pretty funny in itself. Okay, Darkwing Duck had reappeared, but even the dumbest bad guys would have reckoned with that by now, and his deployment wasn't exactly crowned with success either.

No, everything had gone well.

It was always a strange feeling to work with Quackerjack. Although this one seems completely mentally disturbed, I feel comfortable around him, you might even think I trust him, a variety that could easily cost you your neck among super villains. Even if we appear as the Fearsome five, I try to fight as close as possible to the crazy toymaker. It's illogical, however, the two of us complement each other and work miraculously better together than Darkwing with his whole superhero team. Sometimes I even think that Quackerjack protects me inconspicuously. Suddenly he appears behind me and chases any troublemakers, mean, dangerous toys on the neck.  
We are, as I said then, an electrifying team.

After all, we had made it into the future without any major problems, but from then on it was all downhill. Before we could even enter the toy factory targeted by Quackerjack, we were captured by strange robots that looked like mini Thunderquacks. But not because of attempted burglary, no, because of something as banal as wrong parking.   
We were brutally packed and dragged to the prison, I felt that from these strange junk crates there were electric voltages, which on the one hand prevented me from short-circuiting them and on the other hand probably inflicted pain on an ordinary person. At least it looked like it when I tried to make eye contact with my partner. It almost tore my heart when I saw his pain distorted face, because if otherwise physical pain did not seem to matter much to him, he could not cope with these electric shocks. Desperately I tried to free myself to end this agony, but useless, the mini planes seemed absolutely immune to my powers.

As soon as we arrived in the more than scary looking prison we were disarmed, i.e. Quackerjack was taken from his beloved and just as dangerous toy and I was drained of all electrical energy, as I hate it, this feeling of powerlessness...

We were put in a cell with many other, apparently completely innocent people. I turned to my feathered friend, wanted to know how he was. But he turned his back on me, insulted.  
He had never done that before, usually he would lie openly with me if something didn't suit him, shouting his anger in my face or just passing it out. I could handle all this, I held it the same way and after a short time we were laughing in each other's arms. But now? He took every opportunity to speak to him, because when I spoke to him, he only let Mr. Bananabrain, whom he had somehow been able to save from the inspection, answer for himself.  
I had nothing against his doll in principle, but at that moment I would have liked to have torn it out of his hands and thrown it against the next wall. If it hadn't been for this little thing that Bananabrain was a hand grenade...

So I did the only thing I had left, I sat on the floor, wrapped my arms around my knees and waited for Quackerjack to talk to me again. This is certainly not how I had imagined our future, I mean of course the future of St. Canard. It's not like I've already imagined a future with Quackerjack...No, really...

I must have dozed off, for I woke up as a murmur went through the row of prisoners, new inmates were thrown into the cell. I jumped up, hopefully I looked at the drake next to me, but he continued to punish me with disrespect. I let my shoulders hang and instead looked at the newcomers, strangely familiar to me, even though I had no idea why.  
The little red-haired brat expressed the glorious idea of just breaking out here.  
"I'd rather be locked up here than be a target for Darkwarrior Duck outside," I remarked in the direction of Quackerjack. He squinted over to me for a moment until he decided to let Bananabrain answer, now it was enough for me: I countered that it was probably not my fault that we had confessed to the absolute ban on holding and tried to pull the situation as far as possible into the funny.

Unfortunately, the dung blow interrupted me again, which seemed to know us by the way, she actually dared to talk to my...I mean talk to Quackerjack.  
And finally, finally, he talked to me again, now that it really mattered, he seemed to be ready to work in the team again, he even called me Sparky, as always. I knew I could rely on him, I would have loved to burst into tears of happiness. If I hadn't gotten a short circuit, even to me this seemed to be quite an embarrassing action.  
Fascinatingly, our escape attempt succeeded, I even found a way to recharge myself. The girl screamed out in horror as more Darkwarrior robots flew at us. But now in the frontal fight I could switch it off without problems, the admiring look Quackie threw at me made my back run down in a pleasant shiver, at that moment I felt as good as never before. I was just happy and motivated. He doesn't hate me, he doesn't hate me… was the only thing that went through my mind. What wasn't very beneficial when you actually need your gray matter to develop a clever escape plan.

Nevertheless, we finally managed to escape to the present, of course Darkwing immediately handed us over to prison, but our stay there was limited to about thirty seconds when it came up. Long live the present with its outdated security arrangements.

Back at my lighthouse, Quackerjack said goodbye to me. I was suddenly overcome by the desire to ask him to stay the night, but the proposal seemed ridiculous to me. Quackie had been with me several times, but never overnight, and before I upset him again I wished him a good night and let him go.  
Now I lie in my bed every night and I have the same dream in which Darkwing Duck's captures Quackerjack while I am helplessly chained to a wall, unable to help him. Again and again his desperate cry for help comes to my ear, but I can't move and every time I wake up from these screams, sweat bathed, with a heartbeat like after an endurance run.  
I'm starting to worry, what if this is some kind of inspiration and Quackerjack really needs my help? I can even make that nonsense clear to my twisted brain, but still...An unprecedented restlessness grips me when I think of it.

I looked around in the twilight of the room, took the light bulb that was always on my bedside table and leaned on the windowsill. It was a full moon and the sky was clear as a star, but I was more fascinated by the countless flying lights on the roofs of the city than by Mother Nature's spectacle.  
"What do you think Quackerjack is doing right now?" I asked my frosted glass friend, I pressed my ear to the glass to better understand the answer. "Sleep? Is that supposed to be an allusion?" Sighing I put the light bulb aside, probably it was out of tune because I had torn it so rudely from sleep and was not in the mood for a chat.  
Again I was overcome by such a strange desire, the desire to go right now to the Abandoned toy factory that Quackerjack called his own, so that it of course, was not quite so abandoned, but you know what I mean. But what would Quackie think if I showed up in the middle of the night? Not even he had the impudence to such an action so far. What was I supposed to say to him anyway? "Oh no special Quackie, I just had a bad dream and wanted to be near you", true but absolutely out of place...

Five minutes later I had finished dressing and roared in my electric car towards the toy factory, didn't care about the logic, what did she know?

Another thirty minutes later I stopped in front of the dark, creepy building. Quackerjack's logo emblazoned the front door, sometimes I wondered how someone could call himself a superhero who missed such a "disguised" supervillain's hiding place. Negaduck had to be right about his theories about Darkwing, but who cares? More importantly, now: What am I doing here? How could I have been so stupid driving up here? Earth to Megavolt, that was really one of the stupidest ideas I ever had and I held the world record with such ideas.  
I got out of the car and stood inconclusively in front of the front door. I knew that Quackie had set up his quarters on the second floor because he needed the entire lower floor for his toys. A look up to the dark window confirmed to me that I would have listened better to my friend the light bulb, nor was it too late to turn back and let my buddy his just night's rest. But what about my night's rest? And I'm talking about every night!

As I stood there and felt incredibly stupid, familiar electric light suddenly flashed upstairs and an even more familiar voice said polite:   
"I'll tell you one thing, Sparky, if you're planning an attack on me down there, you'll meet my Distractortoys line." I was so scared of Quackerjack suddenly appearing at the window that I could only bring out an intelligent "Uhm".

He grinned, I mean more than usual, and made a waving movement. "Come on in or are you out there trying to get yourself killed?"  
He cares about me, well maybe he was just embarrassed what the neighbors might think when I stare at his window for hours like rooted.  
Before I could think any further, the door opened and Quackerjack, dressed only in black green striped shorts and of course his usual mask, stood in the door frame. I found that irritating, somehow I had always expected him to wear brightly coloured shorts with clowns or something similar. But what am I thinking about his underwear, I'd better think about what a quick explanation I pull out of my sleeve.

To my boundless amazement, however, he did not ask for my motives with any tone. He didn't seem to find my sudden appearance strange, not even surprised. I guess I'll never get that smart out of my partner, did I think, partner? I only mean partners in crime...When did I stop believing myself?  
Suddenly his face was very close to mine and a feathered hand grazed my cheek. "Are you all right Sparky?" His question sounded very gentle, without the otherwise so typical mischievous undertone, just worried. Meanwhile we had arrived at the top of his living area and the light of the lamp in his room seemed to protect me. I declared this moment the most beautiful moment of my life and before my mind could again give me any logical and desirable advice I fell around his neck.

For a moment he seemed surprised, I noticed how he stiffened under the hug, on the other hand it was not the first time that we were in each other's arms, even if for other reasons and slowly he became more relaxed. I felt his arms lay around my waist and simply closed my eyes to enjoy the moment.   
But we don't want to challenge Fortuna, so I slowly got rid of him, was that something of a red glow on his face? "Excuse me..." I muttered hardly understandably, but personally I noticed that I was already much better. The strange feeling had disappeared for the time being, had I really just yearned for him? I only knew something comparable from my desire for electricity, but although the latter is vital for me, the longing for him seemed to me more urgent.

It's mild to say that Quackerjack looked puzzled when I asked him to just stay with him all night. But again he didn't ask, was he waiting for me to tell him? Didn't look that much like him, but on the other hand, he often acted a little differently towards me. We're friends, right? So there's nothing wrong with staying with him. Only Bananabrain couldn't resist a grumbling: "Turn off the light, Brite!" I had to laugh, I found Quackie's voice funny again and again during ventriloquism and I really liked the psychopatic-looking doll.  
"I'm really sorry to barge in here in the middle of the night..." I tried to talk to my friend.  
He looked at me with that look that sometimes really scared me, so penetrating as if he was reading in my soul. But quickly the usual grin lay on his face, he replied dryly: "I don't think so" and went back to bed.

When I did not move, he turned to me again. "What's the matter now? "Lie down, Mr. Bananabrain needs his beauty sleep." I believed that at the word.  
So I also undressed down to my shorts, long live equality, and went to bed with him.  
Bananabrain was banned from bed and onto the bedside table because of me, I hoped he didn't blame me too much. He enjoyed the company of Quackerjack every day. And I should probably better add this consideration to the top five of "never speak out loud" sentences.  
As I turned to the side to look at Quackie, I noticed that his gaze was constantly resting on me, to my horror I felt that I was blushing, but just like he did, I had no choice but to ignore that fact. It flashed through me like a surge as he touched my hand and finally his fingers around mine closed gently, even though this feeling certainly had nothing to do with electrical vibrations. "Better?" he simply asked, as if he already knew all my confused thoughts. "Better!" I answered truthfully, he had already fallen asleep, my hand rested in his as if it did not belong anywhere else.

For the first time in days I was able to sleep through without nightmares, a nice feeling even though I knew at the same time that I would probably never be able to sleep without him.

I woke up early in the morning, annoying rays of the sun tickled me. Sunlight was really only good for generating electrical energy through solar cells. I wanted to get up and realized that my arm had fallen asleep, no wonder, apparently I had slept all night in the position where I had retired: My hand in Quackerjacks. Carefully I got away from him, didn't want to wake him. Mr Bananabrain looked at me from the nightstand, I'm sure of it.

When I looked at my friend asleep I noticed how frighteningly innocent he could look, always provided you didn't know his character.  
The bells of his mask rang softly as Quackerjack moved in his sleep. For the first time I wondered what he looked like without his mask or why he wore one all the time. It's strange that after years of friendship, I didn't know anything like that. Actually, Quackie rarely talked about himself anyway. But what super villain would reveal his life story just like that, you could never know what was used against you. Sometimes, but only sometimes, being a super villain annoyed me. But a hero had it just as hard and as long as I was allowed to get to know Quackerjack through my criminal existence, everything was fine with me.   
Where I would also be directly with the topic, how did I come again on the completely brain burnt idea in the middle of the night to drive to him... Oh yes surely, the dreams, the longing... longing? No for sure!

My face was glowing again, but this time I was alone with myself. I was determined to get out of bed, disappear and hope that Quackerjack would think everything was a stupid dream.  
But his voice held me back: "Sparky..." I heared him whispering. Great, he was already awake, so much for my plan. I turned to him embarrassed, but he lay there peacefully, his eyes closed, his breath even. 

Wait, was my mind just trying to make me realize that Quackie called my name in his sleep? He dreamed of me? Now, however, I remained insecure in bed, it would now simply be cowardly to leave. It would also appear I‘d have done something forbidden. No, I had spent the night with my best friend, what was so bad about that?  
Finally my buddy made himself comfortable to join the living, then I could stop having debates in my head. Living alone in the long run could really get into your mind.  
He blinked into the sunlight with the almost cute disorientation of a just awakening. Then his weary eyes caught on me. I noticed how he automatically looked to his hand, which had held mine all night. A little disappointed as it seemed to me, he noticed that it was now empty. Or was I just trying to convince myself again that he seemed disappointed?  
"Good morning, Quackie" I greeted friendly.  
"Mmph, morning" it came back grumpy. Quackerjack a morning grouch, now I know something new about him.  
After this long conversation we sat across from each other in silence, his eyes fixed on me, as the night before. I caught myself looking down his upper body in flicker. Shame on you Megavolt!

Apparently the moment of silence was at least the right thing to put Quackerjack in his usual good mood. He smiled at me friendly, just like he only smiled at me, nobody else and I was even proud of that.  
"Do you feel better now? "When you showed up here, you seemed a little upset."  
Gee, I knew Question Time was gonna have to come sometime.

I felt the absurd desire to throw me back into his arms instead of answering him. When did I turn into a pussy-needy wimp?  
Involving myself into my own thoughts again, I hadn't noticed how he moved closer to me. Suddenly it was back, this highly electrifying feeling of his body on mine.  
He had his arm around my shoulders, did he know what he was doing to me?

"Frankly, you still seem so Sparky. You know what? I'm gonna go to the bakery over there and steal coffee and breakfast, okay?"  
With these words he breathed a kiss on my cheek and stood up.  
He himself seemed like always, but I had the feeling that literally all my fuses had blown. The spot on my cheek was glowing, I was never so aware of my face.  
"I'll be right back," Quackie laughed happily at me from the door before he disappeared with Bananabrain, but I only heard half of it.  
Holy crap, what was wrong with me? A completely terrible suspicion rose up in me, but that was unthinkable, impossible, an...and probably frighteningly close to reality...  
I had an urgent need to let my head get acquainted with a hard object. But before I even had the chance to look around for a suitable wall, my feathered friend was back. How long had I sat there paralyzed?

He jumped back onto the bed cross-legged so that I was shaken and held a bag of fragrant croissants and coffee under my nose.  
"Breakfast in bed with Quackerjack service, enjoy your meal!" Amazing how quickly the mood of a person of morning grumbling mood could rise to euphoria.  
I felt so horribly shabby for the thoughts I had, for the desire to be so terribly close to him. While he was just such a damn good friend. Respecting me, trying to cheer me up without knowing that he himself was the reason why I stood ten meters beside me. Which shouldn't mean I've resigned myself to the aforementioned suspicion.   
If he were as brutal, ruthless and insane to me as he was to Darkwing, then maybe I could hate him as much as this one...Although, was I so much different from Quackie? Not really.  
But no, when we were alone he had to show that he was not only a sick maniac but could also be gentle. Too gentle.

"Do you really not want to talk to me about it?" He checked again while I was absent-minded crumbling my breakfast. "Did Dorkwing do something to you?"  
When I still did not make any preparations to admit a sign of life from me, he shortened the distance between us, grabbed my shoulders and shook me slightly.  
"Jeez Sparky, please! I'm starting to worry about you!"

Damn it, I didn't mean to. I didn't want to worry him, all I wanted was to lie in his arms like I did last night. I made myself smile to look him in the eye. I took his hands off my shoulders and held them.  
"It's all right, Quackerjack, I've been plagued by stupid dreams lately and couldn't stand being alone anymore. Thanks to you, I'm much better, really."  
It wasn't even a lie, yes, I felt better in his presence, only that it was exactly this feeling that frightened me.  
"Nightmares?" His face reflected a thousand questions, but then he gently pressed my hands. "Just promise me you'll tell me if you need help, I'm here for you!"  
I never would have believed before, that such a simple gesture could mean so much to me.

Then it suddenly came back, the desire to see his face. Touching his cheek with my fingers.  
"I'd love to see you without a mask."  
As I was still speaking, I grabbed a piece of his headgear and pulled it.  
God knows I hadn't counted on the next one.

Quackerjack cried out in horror as the mask slipped off his head. In panic he gave me a violent slap in the face, which I staggered backwards. "No, give it back, give it back!" he screamed desperately and tried to rip the mask off me. But as if in a trance, I clung to it, with a loud rattle, ripping the fool's cap into two.  
His eyes widened in horror as he stared at the shreds of fabric, sweat running down his forehead. "No, no!" Suddenly he started scratching his face as he kept screaming.  
I was completely shocked, blood dripped from the corner of my mouth where he had hit me and I stared at the picture I saw. All I knew in my confusion was that I had to stop him from mutilating himself.

I rushed towards him, no less panicful than he was, and grabbed his wrists. How wildly he pulled and pulled to free himself. Blood ran down his face and his eyes glistened with tears.  
Like a man possessed, he tried to keep hurting his face.  
"Quackerjack, stop it! What are you doing? You're not yourself!" I yelled at him with concern.  
Suddenly he stopped fighting back and stared at me with a transfigured look. Then his head tilted forward on my chest and he stopped moving.  
"Quackerjack?" I asked hesitantly, but there was absolutely no emotion left from him.

"Quackerjack! Quackie!" I shook him in panic, but his head just flew helplessly on his shoulders like a lifeless doll.  
I felt the sheer fear boiling inside me, desperately trying to take a clear thought while my best friend hung lifeless in my arms. What the hell had happened?  
Help, he needs help, was the logical conclusion my mind drew.  
Since I couldn't get him to a doctor, I could only think of one spontaneously. Doctor Reginald Bushroot. In the hope that he knew more than just plants, I panicked and looked for his number in my mobile phone.

When he answered on the other end of the line I was still unable to formulate a clear sentence.   
"Help, Quackerjack is... At the toy factory, please help." All I stammered into the phone, but Bushroot still seemed to understand: "I'll be right with you." He meant and had already hung up to set off.

Carelessly I dropped my cell phone and sank to my knees, Quackerjack's head prayed on my lap. My heartbeat slowly regulated a little and I looked at his face. He was handsome, his face was evenly cut and flawless, apart from the scratches he had made. I just didn't understand why losing his mask had panicked him so much. Lost in thought I wiped some blood from his face, my eyes turned to my fingers, to which now his lifeblood clung without really perceiving the picture.  
What had happened? Was this outburst my fault? 

"What have I done to you." I whispered desperately while holding him in my arms. With my head bowed, I sat there until our friend Reginald finally showed up.  
He seemed shocked by the scene he saw, his gaze gliding questioningly over my half-naked state until his eyes landed on a Quackerjack. Capturing the priorities he approached him and felt his pulse. "Fainted." Was his brief diagnosis, he turned back to me. "I must bring him to me for a closer examination. "Please put something on and come with me, I think you should tell me in peace what happened."

Sure, soberly and calmly, I was glad I called him.  
Shortly thereafter I stood in full Montur before him and Bushroot‘s plants helped us lift Quackerjack into my electric car to bring him to the greenhouse, in which Reggi was native. I let him drive, I just wasn't up to it.

On the way there I tried as best I could to explain what had happened, if only I could understand it myself. I told him how I took off his mask, which earned me a strange look, but at first he didn't ask any further questions. And then Quackie's panic attack. "He smacked me in the face and tried to take the mask back, making it torn. Whereupon he started scratching his face. I tried to stop him and held him, yelled at him in my panic, then suddenly he collapsed." I finished my performance of events, my gaze sadly directed at Bushroot. "Reggi, did I do something to him? Is, is it my fault?"

The strange look from him dissolved and pityingly he laid his hand on my shoulder. "I can't say yet, Megavolt. But even if you had, it's absolutely nothing you could have counted on. Don't worry, you know Quackerjack better than the rest of us. He's strong, he'll get back on his feet." He smiled at me with care.  
"I hope so." I just meant and secretly wiped the tears off my face. In my panic earlier I had used so much energy that the water did not even cause a short circuit.  
Meanwhile we had arrived at the greenhouse and put Quackerjack in the rear, separated part of the building where Reginald‘s apartment lay, in his bed.  
Powerlessly I sat down on a stool while Bushroot carried out various examinations on our feathered friend. Apathetically I stared at my hands, only now I noticed that I was still clutching the torn mask. Everything had gone so incredibly fast, I just wanted to look at his face. Wanted to know what the man I liked so much...looked like without a mask. However I tortured my brain, I could think of no reason for this sudden outburst.  
At that moment Reginald joined me again. " He woke up but..." He started, but I hardly let him get a word in edgewise. "Really? Can I see him?" Then the "but" seeped into my brain. "What about him, Reggi?"

He dodged my panic glance, not a good sign, when he replied. "Well, he's awake, but he's not responding. He's completely apathetic. "When he woke up, he hid in a corner and doesn't seem to notice me at all."  
I stared at him in shock. "Apathetic?" I repeated thought lost. "I want to see him now." I had already disappeared into the adjacent room, Reggi did not stop me, he probably knew how pointless this attempt would be.

The sight struck me like a blow, the person cowering on the ground with a completely transfigured view was no longer the Quackerjack I knew. That picture frightened me more than anything else that had ever happened to me. Would he ever be normal again? And why had it come to this point anyway?  
Bushroot had stepped behind me, he spoke to me in a calm voice, as if he feared that I was also ticking.  
"Megavolt, it's important that you give me a really detailed description of what happened. Why did you take his mask off? Did you have a fight? Why were you half naked when I got to you anyway?"

For a moment I looked at him in silence, God it was embarrassing to have to admit why I was with him, why I took off his mask. But now it was more important to help, than to be embarrassed. I sighed out loud once before I started.  
"I was half naked for staying at his place. I had nightmares and didn't want to be alone anymore, so I went to see him in the middle of the night."  
Bushroot listened in silence, for which I was grateful to him.  
"We didn't argue. On the contrary, he was just worried about me. Then this morning... I just wanted to know what he looked like without a mask, I wanted to see his face. So I took them off without thinking about it and you already know the rest."  
I looked at him embarrassed, my cheeks had turned red.

He looked at me like he was trying to find out if I wasn't hiding anything.  
"All right, and what exactly did you say to him? You said you yelled at him."

Now I had to think for a moment, I had been so in panic that I hadn't given much thought to my choice of words.  
"Well, I think I just told him to stop and that he wasn't himself anymore." Questioningly I looked at the Plantdrake as if he could now tell me exactly how Quackie could be helped.  
"Interesting, really interesting." He started after a while. "It must have something to do with the fact that he didn't want to show his face to anyone, including you." He added with a compassionate look in my direction. "I suppose the cause of all this lies in his past, but how are we gonna figure that out? It seems almost impossible to help him..."  
He bowed his head, couldn't bear to look into my sorrowful eyes anymore. I wonder if he knew how much Quackerjack meant to me. Did he know better than I did in the end?  
But in the meantime I had made up my mind that if the mystery was in the past, then I would go there. My eyes were again on my best friend, who still did not make any preparations to recognize us.

"I would do anything for him." I said more to myself.  
"What are you going to do for all plants on the earth sake? Now Reggi‘s voice sounded panicky.  
"The time top!" I just answered him, my voice full of determination that I did not know of myself.  
"But this is different than usual. If you travel back in time and someone sees you there. That could possibly cause that Quackerjack never exists, do you want that? Besides, how do you know when and where you're going?" His voice overturned.  
"You're right to revoke his existence would be the worst thing I..." I couldn't even finish the sentence so terribly was the thought of a world without a Quackerjack.

"But I can do that, I'll program the time top so that I'll only travel as an observer. No one from the past will be able to see me. And as far as time and place are concerned, I will link myself into Quackie's thought waves and connect them with the top to get into his story."  
Self-confidently I looked at Bushroot which chin was sticking on the floor. "Hey, if a drake manages to turn into a walking, plant-communicating salad mix, I'll probably be able to save the most important person in my life." Okay, now I said more than I wanted to. "I mean, electrophysics is as easy for me as counting to three." I hope to get my complexion back under control as soon as possible before...

"You're in love with him can that be?" Ouch, that's exactly what I meant. Nevertheless, I managed to make my voice sound serious.  
"That‘s your imagination! But he's my best friend, you think I'll just watch him vegetate?" Until I know for myself what kind of a feeling that is, no one else will have the time to think about it. The only thing I know for sure is: I want the old, fun-loving Quackerjack back. Better now than now.

Bushroot seemed to understand this, because he made no further assumptions, maybe he was just afraid of being grilled. Anyway, with a heavy heart I left Quackerjack to Reggi alone and raced as fast as I could back to my lighthouse. I needed the necessary equipment for reprogramming and above all to immerse myself in Quackie's thoughts.  
It was already noon when I finally arrived back in the greenhouse. Quackerjack must not have moved the whole time. I knelt in front of him.  
"I'm sorry to hack into your thoughts now, but I want to help you and there's no other way." I whispered to him while I connected the thought transfer to him. I knew he couldn't hear me, but still. Tenderly I stroked his cheek. Bushroot had cleaned the wounds in the meantime, no scars would remain. "I'll save you, I promise." I mumbled and leaned my forehead against his, the transmission was going.

I felt shabby enough to transform his precious thoughts into simple data strands, but what else could I do? On a form of a memory stick that I personally developed further, those moments were finally stored, which had moved his thoughts in the deepest way. I saw that there were five places in his past that I would travel. Despite my guilty conscience and my concern for Quackerjack, I was secretly excited to learn more about him. I clasped the precious stick with both hands and pressed it to my heart.

I hesitantly looked Quackerjack in the face again, then I bent forward and pressed a fleeting kiss on his forehead. "Hang in there and fight till I get back, my friend. I won't let you down."  
I forced myself to get up and look at Bushroot, who again thought of me with his strange look, slowly it started to get annoying. Think what you want, I cursed inside.  
"Reggi, I'm counting on you to keep Quackerjack safe, I'm going back to the factory, to the time top." I saw my buddy nod, apparently today's events had left him speechless. But just before I got out the door, I heard a quiet message from him: "Good luck, Megavolt." I let him see the Victory sign over my shoulder and was on my way to the toy factory.  
Less than a quarter of an hour later I sat down in the roundabout, I had never thought much about traffic regulations anyway.  
A few seconds of self-doubt crept up on me, had I really programmed everything right? But as soon as Quackerjack's disturbed look came back to my mind it had happened to my doubts. How did our dearly beloved archenemy always say? "Let’s, get dangerous!"

With these words I connected the memory stick and the top took me away, into Quackerjack's past.  
I got out a little dizzy, I noticed that the roundabout had taken me directly to a hospital. A beautiful woman was lying in a sickbed rocking a newborn baby in her arms.

Quackerjack was born, it crossed my mind. Around the bed stood a doctor. A drake, with such an astonishing resemblance to Quackerjack, who could only be his father. And a boy of about 12 years, who looked at the newborn a little suspiciously. "His name is Jack." Announced his mother with a happy smile. "Do you like your little brother Michael?" The older boy leaned forward to the baby and Quackie reached out his little hands and touched his brother's cheek. The boy finally smiled, "Yes, he's sweet, can I hold him?" Michael continued smiling and swaying his baby brother in his arms.

A strange feeling to see his best friend as a baby, at the same time I was sure that I had never seen a sweeter child. Yeah, call me crazy.  
The environment slowly faded away, it became increasingly unclear to look, the sign for me, to check the next memory. At least he didn't seem to have fared badly from birth.  
I went back into the time gyroscope and was also promptly led further into Quackie's past, or closer as one takes it.  
The room I was in now had to be Quackerjack‘s. Everything was full of colorful toys and self painted pictures on the walls. Mostly clowns and harlequins, amazingly well drawn pictures.  
As I turned around I also noticed the little boy sitting at his desk tinkering with something. A smile spread on my face. Quackerjack had already been cute as a baby, but now, I estimate him at four or five years, he just looked cute to bite. He wore shorts and a wide T-shirt with a smiling smiley, his fringed pony hung in his face. The way he concentrated his facial expressions was too cute.

My eyes fell on the dustbin under his desk, next to lots of paper was the basket full of banana peels. My grin widened, so Mr. Bananabrain was no accident.  
I looked over the young Quackerjack's shoulder and was surprised to discover that it was this very doll he was working on. I didn't know it was that old.  
I was also surprised that he was able to do such a thing at this tender age. On the other hand, this was again a common ground between us. I remember taking apart and studying light bulbs and other electrical equipment when I was five years old.

Suddenly Quackerjack gave a cry of delight, happily holding the finished Bananabrain in the air and then pressing it tightly against him. His face shone with satisfaction. He ran out of his room with the doll, I could still hear him calling out loud to his parents to present his work. Then this memory also faded, here did not seem to be the root of the tragedy.

I was amazed when I stood in the same room again after another trip. But things had changed. All toys and pictures had disappeared, the room was so tidy that it seemed almost sterile. All that was left on the shelves were important and complicated-looking books on business. On the desk, on which in the previous memory there had been a colourful chaos of tools and pens, there was only one computer. Now I was surprised, that didn't fit so well to the Quackerjack I knew. I looked around and saw him lying on his bed and reading. His gaudy shorts and the funny shirt had given way to a stiff suit with bow tie. What particularly surprised me was that he didn't look a day older than before.

What had happened that his interests had turned 180 degrees? And how did it come that he later became exactly like that again? I got restless, was there perhaps a problem hidden here? Suddenly a woman's voice came out of the apartment which I dared to classify as his mother's: "Michael, please come down there's food!"

To my boundless astonishment Quackerjack obviously felt addressed, cause he immediately slipped out of bed, wiped himself quickly over the face and walked out of the room.  
I swallowed heavily, had there tears been in his eyes? And why did his mother call him Michael?

Something told me I was onto the problem of his misfire.

I hurriedly followed him down the stairs into a chicly furnished dining room. Only his mother was sitting there at the set table. "Your father called, he has to stay at work longer, but we should eat meanwhile. Have you been studying all day again for your A-levels, Michael? You make me so proud!"  
His mother smiled at him, but her look seemed a little absent.

Quackerjack just nodded his head and sat down. There was something wrong at the front and the back. A-levels? He couldn't have been at that age, even if he lacked the necessary growth hormones. I met him when he was nineteen years old and he was normal size. Besides, why did his mother keep calling him Michael? Suddenly it fell off my eyes like scales, Michael, that was the name of his older brother. Who might really be at that age for high school exams, but...But...  
I was boundlessly confused, and the sight of the dreary Quackerjack tore my heart.

I attended the entire meal during which my friend was questioned about economics and politics which, according to his mother, were his main subjects.   
After dinner, Quackie returned to his room as soon as possible, but he continued to peep out through the keyhole into the hallway. Finally I heard footsteps outside, his mother probably passed by. As soon as the footsteps were out of earshot, my buddy crept out of the room. Down the dark hallway until he stopped by a door. Carefully he opened it a crack to see inside. I did it like him.

I saw his mother kneeling in front of some kind of altar and lighting candles on it. On the table were a lot of elaborately framed photos. An adult, serious-looking young man in a suit looked at you from every picture. Michael.

Now his mother sobbed audibly and muttered constantly something about why her beloved son was taken away.  
Michael must have passed away, so much could be put together from everything. I looked down at my friend who watched the scene with crying eyes. He was wearing the same kind of suit as his brother in the photos...

I had a horrible, cruel suspicion. His parents, they projected their late son onto Quackerjack. They treated him as if he were the teenager who is about to pass his final exams.   
Edisson, that was just irresponsible and heartless. Like Jack doesn't even count for them.  
The memory faded, but I stood there and looked at my best friend, until finally, only the time top next to me was to be seen.  
I felt miserable as I got out to let the next memory come over me, I hardly wanted to watch the misery anymore. A deep compassion for my friend had gripped me and I just wanted to go back to the current Quackerjack and take him in my arms. But I couldn't, I had to know what happened to him to be sure how I could help him.  
So I decided to devote myself to my new surroundings again. I immediately identified them with Quackie's room. Everything looked just as sterile, but Jack, who had become a teenager, was sitting at his desk sewing colorful fabric together. But his face was just as stiff and closed as I had last seen him. Now he put the needle and thread aside, I heard a familiar ringing of bells as he moved the fabric and recognized in it the familiar mask he had always worn.

He put them on, I held my breath for a terrible moment and feared another outbreak. But it never came, as soon as the mask covered his face, the exuberant grin that he had as a child and also in the present, spread on his face. That was Quackerjack as I knew him.  
He opened the desk drawer and took out a safely stored Bananabrain. With a last long look at his room, which should probably be his brother's, he went to the window and then climbed down the gutter. I had the certain feeling that he had never returned to this place of humiliation.

The outlines of his room became weaker and I continued my journey. Everything seemed clear to me now, but the display on the memory stick said that there had been another, vital memory for Quackerjack.

In the hope that it could also be positive this time, I climbed out of the time Top on my last leg.  
At least I wouldn't get sick in this thing so quickly anymore, I had gotten used to it by now.  
I immediately noticed that the area that Quackerjacks thoughts had brought me to, seemed familiar to me.  
Confused I looked around, then suddenly I saw Quackerjack coming at me from an alley. Behind him there was engine noise and the squeaking of tires. The next moment, Darkwing Duck emerged from the same alley. "Freeze, you lunatic! Launchpad, we have to cut that crazy toymaker off!" Sounded the familiar and equally hated voice of our arch-enemy. A gas bomb flew over Quackerjack and blocked his escape route with an impenetrable cloud of smoke from knockout gas.  
I stared stunned at the scene, I knew exactly what was going to happen, but I just couldn't believe it yet.  
But at the same moment, my hunch was confirmed. A blue electric flash hissed from the flat building in the middle of the road and shredded the Ratchaser‘s tires. Shortly afterwards, a person, very familiar to me, swung off the roof.

Me.

With big eyes I watched as I stormed towards Quackerjack and grabbed him by the arm because he was standing around paralyzed.  
"Come on, let's get out of here together!" I shouted to him enthusiastically. We ran towards Dipwing and his even stupider companion, another blow of electricity got those cardboard noses out of our way. 

"Troll, pack!" I shouted over my shoulder to our enemies, then we were already around another corner where my electric car was. "Get in, we have to get out of here, this drake is fucking persistent." Pressed my past self Quackerjack. He obeyed without protest, just as I remembered.  
Like a madman I chased my mobile through the nightly streets of St. Canard until I finally thought we were safe.   
"There you go! It worked out just fine." My self smiled friendly at the stranger at that time. "Are you all right? You're new here in town, aren't you? What's your name? I'm Megavolt!  
After this monologue, I held my hand out to Quackerjack. He looked at my self silently for a moment, then the usual grin spread on his face and he grabbed the presented hand. "Thank you. Yup, I'm new here, I had no idea a madman was chasing innocent criminals in this town. All I wanted to do was kindly convince this toy dealer to offer only my goods.“ The fact that his friendly persuasion had called Darkwing on the plan said everything about his methods, I found him spontaneously sympathetic.  
"My name is Jac... um, Quacker... Quackerjack." 

I remember exactly how this broad smile made me feel. From day one. Damn, I felt how I blushed and was glad that no Bushroot was there who could throw me strange looks.  
For a while I watched us walking along the sea together, talking. After I had parked my car well hidden. A blessing to the many alleys of this city.   
A feeling of happiness flooded through me, this memory of our first encounter had to be as important as mine. Otherwise the time top wouldn't have led me here. From now on, I knew what happend. He had shown me some of his invented toys, which were of course excellent weapons. We'd tracked down the old factory for him together, which has been his hiding place ever since. We spent many days together in my lighthouse, but he really never stayed overnight. Never before have I had so much fun with someone, Quackerjack always made me laugh and not less despair. But there was always a feeling of familiarity between us. We finally planned crimes together, from that time on Darkwing knew us as the duo infernale.

The memory had long since faded, but I was still standing next to the time top and next to myself with a stupid grin.  
But finally I had to pull myself together, Quackerjack of the present was waiting for me, he needed help and I wasn't sure how to heal his childhood trauma.   
Nevertheless, a feeling of deepest satisfaction accompanied me on the way back into the future.   
During the short journey through time and also the whole way from the toy factory to the greenhouse, I followed my thoughts. Considered how I ever got to help a stranger back then. Never before had I lost so much of my roguish mercilessness. I remember that I rolled my eyes when I recognized the engine, feared Darkwing would come after me again. The surprise that the pursuit was of someone else was great. But then my eyes fell on Quackie and my logical thinking gave way to my instinct to help him immediately. Scary. But then again, nothing I've ever regretted.

With squeaking tires I stopped in front of Bushroots house. Now we had to find a solution and quickly.   
I rushed into the treatment room, what almost tipped poor Reggi out of his chair with shock.   
I located Quackerjack on the bed, apparently Bushroot had managed to transport him there.  
Trembling I sit with him, stroking his cheek. No movement.

"Megavolt, were you successful? "Do you know what's wrong with him?" I was interrupted by our plant drake.  
Slowly I turned my head in his direction, unwilling to look away from Quackerjack.  
"Well, I think his past explains his behavior, but I have no idea how to cure him."

And so I told Reginald the whole story, also the last memory came to my lips after some hesitation.  
Bushroot went through his entire repertoire of facial expressions, it ended with his strange look, which had already been patented.  
"This is more severe than I feared, a real trauma. I assume he's afraid of the man behind the mask because he's gonna have to play his brother again."  
"So his most fervent desire is to be himself." I locked Reggi‘s remarks.  
"Yes, and to be lov...liked as who he really is." My friend hesitantly added.

I didn't understand all this, here with us, with me he could be himself. I liked him just the way he was. Didn't he know that? Or did my opinion simply not mean enough to him.  
Sadly, I shared my thoughts with Reginald.  
"Did you ever tell him that?"  
"What do you mean? He must realize that I..."  
"Answer my question."  
"No, I didn't." I finally confessed defeated. But I couldn't either. I mean, how does that look? You know, Quackie, I always wanted to tell you that you're the most important thing in the world to me. That I like you just as you are. And you also make me feel like I can be myself, without being ashamed.  
No, of course not.   
"You don't say things like that, it goes without saying." I was fiery red because of my thoughts.

"Well, not for Quackerjack. His fear of not being accepted as he is, is simply too deep. Besides, would you have been sure you could always go to him if you were in trouble, if he hadn't told you just before this whole fiasco?"  
That sat, did Bushroot always have to hit the bull's eye so hard?  
He sighed heavily as if he was tired of everything before he spoke to me again:  
"Listen, after all you've told me so far, I'm pretty sure there's only one person who can get Quackerjack out of his distress."  
"Who is it?" I looked at him expectantly, did he already know the solution?  
"You, Megavolt!"  
"„…?“ I remarked glibly.

Again that deep, almost annoying sigh.  
"Nobody knows Quackerjack like you do. He trusts no one like you. And nobody loves him as much as you do. So who else would it be? In any case, he has never offered me his unrestricted help. "We've also never committed crimes in pairs."  
My eyes were focused on everything but Bushroot.  
"I told you, you’re missintepreting things. It's not like I'm in lov..."

A resounding slap in the face interrupted my pathetic attempt to talk me out of it. He had hit me so hard that I had to hold on to the bed frame to avoid tipping over.  
"You know what? I've had enough! As far as I'm concerned, you can go on feeling sorry for yourself as long as you want. If you're really so embarrassed to like him that you'd rather leave him in this state, than admit it. Then maybe I was actually wrong about my guess that he meant something to you. You're a coward. First you sound big you would do anything for him, but hardly that you have to give yourself a weakness your promise becomes void. I don't care if you deny your feelings for the rest of your life. But you'll regret it, I can promise you that."  
His voice had become ever softer until he finally almost whispered. His eyes shimmered suspiciously. Did he speak from personal experience?  
"You don't get many chances to confess your feelings to someone, and if you're too busy thinking about what others might think, you miss this opportunity forever."  
With the last words he turned around and walked out of the room.

"Like I said, do what you want. You can stay a little longer, I need some sun. The most important thing now is to wake him out of this state of trance. Nothing is possible before that."  
He disappeared with it, I made no effort to call him back, it would be pointless anyway. I sat there as if he had poured a bucket of cold water over my head.  
Seeking help I saw in Quackerjacks, beautiful black eyes. His gaze glided empty through me. 

Deep down inside I knew Bushroot was right, but why was it so hard for me to admit it? Was it really important to me what others thought of me?  
I built up an electrical tension between my thumb and index finger, the sparks crackled quietly in the complete silence of the room.  
Since this incident at school I had vowed never to give anything to what others thought. But in the end, it was always there, the fear of being taken for an idiot, abnormal or ugly. Sure, everybody's trying to cover up their own insecurities. Some are particularly cheeky, others hide their characteristics from others to protect themselves. The only one I wasn't afraid of was Quackerjack. Only with him I could accept myself because he made me feel perfect as I am. Did I fail to give him the same feeling?

I crawled onto the bed to Quackerjack, leaned against the wall next to him and put my arms around him. The warmth of his body and the pleasant scent of his feathers penetrated me like a redemptive mist. Carefully I pulled him onto my lap, gently swaying him back and forth in my arms like a little child to be comforted.  
"Can you hear me, Quackie?"  
I whispered, my lips a breath away from his ear.  
"Please come back to me, I need you. You're the driving force between us. It's no fun living without you."  
Maybe it was the mention of the word fun, at least I saw a timid flickering in his almost lifeless appearing eyes.  
Suddenly I felt my friend's motionless body nestle into the hug. His gaze finally seemed to focus me again.   
"Sparky? What…?" Boundless confusion was reflected in the black opals.  
"Quackerjack? Do you hear me?"

He looked at me questioningly.  
"Of course I hear you, I'm not deaf. What's going on? Where are we?"  
Lost in thought, he drove through his hair. In the middle of the movement, he stagnated as if struck by lightning.  
"My mask..." his voice immediately panicked again. But this time I was prepared not to give him any time to get hysterical. I took his face in both hands and forced him to keep eye contact with me. 

"I took off your mask, Quackerjack, remember? It's torn."  
"What? But why, why did you...? I need..."  
"No, you don't!" I give him my word. "I took it off because I wanted to see your face. I wanted to be able to touch you."  
As if to confirm my words, I gently stroked his cheek with the back of my hand. The feeling chased a shiver down my spine, my fingers tingling pleasantly.  
Quackerjack looked at me stunned.   
"But, I must..." Tears were in his eyes, I could imagine that his thoughts were just far away in the past. Did he just see his parents in me?  
"Listen to me carefully, Qua... Jack. You're not Michael, and you never have to be again. I want you to be just yourself. My Jack. My best friend." Carefully I took my hands off his face. Waiting to see what happens.

Slowly he began to feel his face as if he was recognizing himself for the first time. I kept calm, there seemed to be no danger of him hurting himself again. He was quiet by then, the panic had stopped shaking.  
Deep in his mind he looked at his hands. Finally he raised his head to look me in the eye. I immediately realized that a large part of his old life force was back again.  
"How do you know about... about Michael?" His question came timidly, as if he feared the answer could destroy everything again.  
"I'd rather explain this to you in peace, the important thing is that I know because I wanted to help you. You said you'd always be there for me when I needed help. Well, that goes for me too. "I'll be with you, no matter what."

My arms closed themselves around his body. For a moment I thought of last night when I threw myself into his arms. How banal all my worries seemed to me now. This dream, he had really shown me the right way, Quackerjack had been in trouble. But only I had been able to bring out these problems, and then resolve them slowly, step by step.  
I was sure it could be a long time before this trauma disappeared. Possibly it would always be present.  
My friend turned out of the hug in embarrassment, a clear glimmer of red adorned his cheeks.  
"Megavolt, what is all this... I know you're there for me..." Despite these words, I saw the happy smile on his face. I should have told him all this so much sooner.  
"Never forget it."  
He just nodded silently while looking me in the eye penetratingly. Tried to understand why.

"I'm sorry I took your mask off without asking. I'm sorry it's ripped. But I want you to know that you may need the mask to protect your identity from the law. But never to hide you from me."  
A certain relief spread within me, it was good to finally let him know all this. But something was missing, something important. Actually, the most important thing. On the other hand, I didn't want to expect too much of him all of a sudden, it wouldn't be good to press him now. Besides, I didn't want to be at Reginald‘s house when I... When I confessed how I felt about him.  
Suddenly it was Quackie who flung his arms around my neck.  
"I don't know exactly what was going on, but... Thank you."  
I replied nothing more, just held him tight to let him know this was no dream.  
"Can I stay with you today Sparky? I'm afraid this time I had the weird dreams, I don't want to be alone."  
Okay, the question came as a surprise, but I didn't want to leave him alone today either.  
"You're very welcome."   
…

We became aware of the strange atmosphere. We moved away from each other. Quackerjack took the chance to take a closer look around.  
"Say, is this Bushroot’s place?"  
"Um, yeah. But I think we should get out of here now. "I've stressed the poor man's nerves enough for today, I'm afraid he won't get wilted leaves."  
Suddenly I realized again how my cheek was burning from his slap…  
"Do I want to know why?" There he was again, the familiar and so beloved mischievous undertone in his voice. I had my Quackerjack back.  
"I was an idiot. More on that later."

"So nothing new, I see." He shook his head briefly as if to get clear again and then jumped enthusiastically from the bed.   
"I don't know exactly what happened, but somehow I feel better than ever!"  
I could only agree with him inside. I was so happy that he was normal again, as far as Quackerjack was concerned as normal…  
He insisted on getting Mr. Bananabrain from his factory before we went to my place. Of course I had left it there in all the panic. Darkly he looked at me from the bedside table, I was sure he knew that I was to blame for the misfire of his master.  
Quackerjack looked around his home as if he had never been there before. Horrified, I noticed individual shreds of material and blood splashes on the floor. I glanced over to my friend in a gloomy suspicion.

But he remained very calm, he sat down on the floor and looked calmly at the shreds of fabric.  
"It feels good not to have to wear a mask." He finally said and smiled happily at me. My heart jumped three times.  
…  
"Would it be bad if I wore one outside anyway? Darkwing and the rest of the world are none of my business."  
His eyes looked at me questioningly as if my opinion really mattered.  
"I think that's okay..."  
I fasted him firmly on his shoulders and looked deep into his eyes.  
"As long as you remember that you don't have to hide from me."  
He hugged me for a moment, for Eddison's sake, did he have to be so cuddly since he came to his senses again? He upset all my self-control. If I've ever owned anything like this.   
"I know Sparky, I'll never forget that."

That look, that deep, penetrating look right into my heart.  
Quackie got away from me and after he got a spare mask from his bedroom we went, accompanied by Mr. Bananabrain, to my home. The lighthouse on the outskirts of town.  
Already on the way I had noticed the dark clouds. I could almost taste the electric charge that was in the air. I'm sure there'd be a thunderstorm tonight. Perfect, my favourite weather and Quackerjack near me, what more could I ask for?

My friend didn't seem to notice the change in the weather at all. Well, I admit that being an electrodynamo on two legs can be of some advantage in determining thunderstorms.  
As soon as we entered the tower, Quackie grazed the mask off his head again, he seemed to want to stick to my request meticulously. Or maybe he was just happy to finally be liberated.  
I was ashamed of the chaos I had left in my hurry. Cables, microchips and the same lay all over the floor. My bed looked just as messy as I left it last night after my spontaneous departure.  
My friend, however, did not seem to mind the disorder in the least. To be honest, he probably had never seen my apartment in any other condition. Long live bachelorhood.  
Bananabrain immediately landed on the bedside table where he could talk to the light bulb. I remembered that she was probably still mad at me and I made an inner note of apologizing to her at times.

Quackerjack hesitantly entered the small bathroom I could call my own, but didn't close the door behind him, so I could watch what he was doing. He took a close look at his reflection. How long had it been since he saw his face?  
"You know, I've only ever taken off my mask to shower or change, but never looked in a mirror. I'd already forgotten what I look like."  
I had meanwhile stepped up to him and looked out into the mirror behind his shoulder. This sight never made me particularly happy.  
For a while we remained silent, staring in the glass, lost in thought, until Quackerjack finally interrupted the silence.  
He turned to me.

"Say, Sparky, do you think I'm ugly?"  
What kind of clichéd question was that? At least I could answer them from the depths of my heart full of honesty.  
"No."  
Although my answer contained little detailed explanation, it seemed to make him happy. His smile, which always robbed my senses, seemed to fill the whole room. 

We spent much of the day talking. I described to him today's incidents after his collapse in as much detail as possible. My journey into his past.  
"Then basically now you know all about me..."  
How I'd like to tell him I'm sorry. But that would be a lie. How could I be sorry for saving his life? Unthinkable. So I kept quiet.  
He raised his hands and for a moment I was afraid I might be beaten. But he only carefully took off my helmet and protective goggles. He could be sure that I wouldn‘t have a similar effect as him, for I had often got rid of these things before him.  
His gaze glided over my face. I felt uncomfortable now that I knew how intoxicatingly beautiful Quackerjack was, in my opinion. If I only found the sight of me more repulsive. Strange, I had never really been interested in my appearance before. Well, I didn't think it was nice, but not important enough to sink into self-doubt.  
Now, however, with these conscious feelings for the man in front of me, I would have loved to see a plastic surgeon on the spot.  
He stretched out one hand and stroked infinitely gently over the burns around my right eye.

Then he loosened the straps around the battery on my back. Totally fine, I was charged enough by the thundery air outside to get along without any problems.  
"How did this happen?" That was his inescapable question.  
"I mean, how did you get those powers and... your eye, what...?"  
He interrupted himself.  
"Why haven't I ever asked you about this before?"  
Same reason I never asked? Because you and I are basically cowards? Sounds logical.  
"Let's agree that we haven't talked enough." I conceded. The last thing we needed was that we both went into depression for possible failures.  
…  
I think he was still waiting for an answer to the first question. So I took a deep breath and for the first time in my life I spread my past in front of another person.  
My passion for physics, even then. Bullying at school. Finally this unspeakable day in January...I mean in Jule...Well, just the day before the big holidays.  
I described my attempt at static electricity, the emergence of this stupid, sports-obsessed pig and his bitchy girlfriend. The treadmill, the handcuffs, the electric recoil, the doorknob, the electric shock, the end of my life as Elmo Sputterspark.  
Quackerjack just listened and kept looking me in the eye. When I told it, I literally sank into the black opals.  
"Would you undo it if you could?"  
Ok, to this question I would spontaneously come up with a very kitschy, romantic answer but... Oh what the hell.  
"Well, so I, um..." I began eloquently.  
"…If that meant never becoming a super villain and never meeting you... then no."  
Holy crap, what an idiot I am!  
"Me too..."

Yeah, I knew he'd think it was stupid, and... Wait, what did he just say? Does he feel the same way?  
A look into his broad grin assured me that I had heard correctly.  
"Better a childhood trauma than beeing without you as my best friend."  
He continued to smile at me so radiantly, so happily.

Ouch. Not that I have anything against the term: Best friend, after all, he was for me too. But...But not only...  
I jumped up decisively, what made me worry and mope? He preferred me to a healthy childhood. What the hell did I want more?  
Because I knew exactly how to bait him, I suggested playing something until the night finally went down over this eventful day.  
Somehow I hadn't thought at all about the fact that I only had one bed available. But now that the night was here I realized that I could fall asleep with him again this time. Be strong my heart and keep on beating.

"Say, can we go to sleep? "I don't know, I feel like someone pulled me out of my sleep last night..."  
Meaning a lot, Quackie looked in my direction.  
"Besides, I feel like I've been beaten to death."  
I could understand, surely it hadn't been a funny day for Reggi and me either. But even being the victim of such psychic trauma had to be extremely annoying. Self-doubt, grief and hatred can tear a hole in your soul.  
"Of course we can."  
I meant, and didn't move a bit.

Quackerjack, on the other hand, immediately began to get rid of his clothes, "a blessing to sleep without a mask". Again this, a heart piercing smile in my direction.  
My eyes followed his every movement until my gaze finally remained on his upper body, quite well built. The heat shot me in the face instantly. Luckily, Quackie didn't notice any of this.  
Whistling in a good mood, he finally strolled to the bathroom in shorts. A separate toothbrush was always available for him. Just in case he did stay the night. Yes, it had already come to that point with me. 

Now I too sneaked into the bathroom where my friend gurgled happily "All my little ducklings". Embarrassed, I reached for my toothbrush and stared doggedly into the mirror. Every look in his direction shook my self-control.  
He was waiting for me, it just wasn't fair, so I couldn't spend three hours brushing my teeth to delay going to bed. Which was contrary to what I wanted, but..., you know.  
"Aren't you going to change?"

Um, yeah. Damn, yesterday wasn't hard for me to undress from him either. What feelings could do to you. My face glowed like a traffic light as I slowly took off my gloves, overalls and shoes.  
I also noticed how Quackerjack kept looking at me, did he like my looks? But unlike him, I didn't have the courage to just ask.   
He had meanwhile sat down on the edge of the bed and wished Bananabrain and even my light bulb a good night.   
I couldn't help it, I stepped up to him and gently tossed his soft hair.

"Are you sure this is gonna be okay?" I asked honestly worried, but he just nodded exuberantly.  
Suddenly he grabbed my wrist and pulled me onto the bed giggling. Fortunately for him, I didn't land on him.  
"You don't have to worry about me now that I'm used to it thanks to you. If I'm uncomfortable, I can still put my mask on. But you give me no reason to."  
He bent over me, his face was so close to me that I could feel his hot breath on my skin.  
"I believe that you accept me as I am."  
He kissed me on the forehead.  
"Thank you."

Accept...If he knew how I really felt about him, would he still move so impartially next to me?  
Quackie rolled off me and snuggled up in bed, I followed him. At least I had two blankets.  
Tentatively I felt for his hand. I wanted to hold it, just like last night. His warm fingers immediately closed around mine.  
"Good night, Sparky."

I could have died of happiness.  
I slept as relaxed as the night before. I don't often enjoy this calm, really relaxing sleep.  
Until I suddenly woke up with an adrenaline rush. Something had grabbed my arm. In the darkness I tried to recognize what was going on when I heard a whimpering voice on my ear.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up, Sparky..."  
Quackerjack, I breathed a sigh of relief. But what was wrong with him? Why this trembling voice? Please not a relapse!

Exactly at that moment a glistening flash lit up the room which was almost immediately accompanied by a loud thunder. Now I also noticed the constant hissing of the rain.  
It was my awaited thunderstorm, but my friend seemed anything but enthusiastic. His grip around my arm became tighter and tighter. How close he had come to me in the meantime. My heart accelerated its rhythm. 

"Quackerjack? Is everything all right?"  
His tears filled his eyes, which were now directed at me, said it all.  
"I hate thunderstorms, I hate that loud thunder."  
I was sure he didn't want to insult me personally, probably he didn't even think about my connection to lightning and thunder at that moment. Would it help him if I explained to him now exactly physically why he need not be afraid of thunder? I don't think so.  
So I ignored the feeling of decency jumping wildly in my brain and raised my blanket a little.  
"Come here."

I simply demanded and he immediately scurried to me, buried his head under my chin and sighed blessed. His hands rested peacefully on my chest, I only felt him stroking me very gently.   
"Better?" I asked with a smile as I remembered last night.  
"Better!" he replied and I could just feel him waving his face to a smile.  
But now we were both awake. Thunder bothered him and I...well you can imagine for sure what went through my head.  
Embarrassed, but completely at the end of my self-control I took him more firmly in the arm and began to pull light courses on his back. I gently stroked his soft plumage with my fingers. Suction deep this breathtaking fragrance that emanated from his body, enjoyed the pleasant warmth that he spread.  
He immediately pressed himself closer to me, our legs were already intertwined.  
I love you, can't you feel it?

And then I felt it, feather-light kisses that Quackerjack breathed on my neck. His hands were still stroking the short fur on my chest.  
I had to hold back really hard not to moan out loud. That feeling, it seemed to burn my whole body. Did he even know what he was doing to me?  
It was clear if I didn't end it immediately it was too late and I would do something I regretted my whole life.  
I almost panicked away from him and, breathing heavily, straightened myself up.  
Frightened, he immediately stopped and looked up anxiously at me.  
"I'm sorry, I... I didn't mean..."

He stammered helplessly and probably didn't know what he wanted to say himself.  
He looked enchanting, looking up at me with dishevelled hair and still wet, shiny eyes. Again I had to realize how innocent he could look when he wasn't chasing an exploding toy on your neck.  
But why did he do that? A game? Like everything for him? Because it was just about right? Thoughts whirled around in my head and my heart contracted painfully at the thought.  
"Megavolt, I'm sorry." 

His voice ripped me out of my trance, the mattress moved slightly as he straightened up on his elbows.  
"I didn't mean to scare you, but you smell so good and your closeness is so pleasant, I just couldn't resist. Please don't be mad, I swear it will never happen again."  
Wait a minute, something just went fundamentally wrong here. He just didn't understand, but how could he. I never told him cause I was a coward. But what did his words mean? So was it really just a game for him?

Desperately he stood upright and shook my shoulders:  
"Megavolt please..."

Finally my body obeyed my orders again to some extent. Slowly I raised one hand and put it on his cheek.  
He flinched and briefly closed his eyes, did he really think I could beat him? For this? Just because he... because he...  
But when the pain never came, he looked at me from those black opals again. A thousand questions were reflected in them.  
My voice trembled slightly as I spoke.

"You don't understand Quackerjack, you don't understand it at all. I'm not mad, it's just..."  
I paused, was this really the right time? But if not now, when then?  
"To me, this isn't a game or anything. I'm serious, so I don't want you to just..."  
The feeling of drowning in his eyes grew stronger, but still these unfathomable lakes looked at me without understanding.   
He wouldn't understand if I didn't get more specific. A deep sigh escaped my throat until I finally had the courage to continue talking.

"I love you."

My words hung in the room like something tangible. I was afraid I made the biggest mistake of my life, losing my best friend. On the other hand, there was this relieving feeling of truth. There was no going back, would he understand my feelings?  
After almost endless time I already counted on everything. That he would shout at me, hit me, or run away from me in disgust. I was ready for anything.  
But then suddenly he raised his hand and gently stroked over my right cheek.  
"You love me? "Though I am so..."  
His arms lay around my neck and at the same moment I felt his warm body pressed close to mine again.  
"I love you, I love you too, Megavolt. So much..."

I embraced him as if of my own accord. Could that really be true? Had all the fear been for nothing? I hoped it with all my heart.  
Before I could really grasp it, Quackerjack loosened from me to look deep into my eyes again.  
His face approached mine and suddenly I felt soft lips laying down timidly on mine.  
This feeling was simply indescribable. His lips were firm but cuddly, he tasted better than anything I had ever tried.  
I replied this kiss before I even realized it. The touch of our lips was timid and reserved but so beautiful that it almost hurt.   
Embarrassed we finally broke away from each other, never before had my heart beaten as fast as now.  
Especially Quackerjack didn't seem to know what to do with himself.  
"Um, sorry, that was too fast again..." 

Edisson, what did he look cute sitting there with his cheeks so red. I leaned forward so that my forehead touched his.  
"Don't worry, it wasn't too fast, it was just right."   
As if to confirm, I breathed a short kiss on his lips. I really got used to that feeling. But what happened to us now? I didn't dare to ask, I was afraid, as so often.  
"Megavolt... what happens to us now?"

Why didn't I get rid of the feeling he was braver than me? Time to stand my ground too.  
"If you don't mind, I'd like to be with you Quackerjack."  
Preferably forever.  
His smile had never been more beautiful.

"Then we'll think the same thing as always."  
I could feel his heart beating as he nestled close to me.  
With a satisfied sigh I let myself sink back into the soft cushions. I pulled Quackerjack tenderly down with me until we again lay tightly wrapped under a blanket. Even the thunderstorm seemed to subside slowly, only the calming sound of the rain could still be heard.  
Granted, I longed to be close to him. But not now. No more should have happened today than had already happened. Endlessly happy I pulled Quackie a little closer to me and scratched his neck. Its feathers at this point felt like soft down.  
I could really feel sleep taking possession of me.  
"I love you Quackerjack."  
I quietly heard his reply before I fell asleep.


End file.
